


no waves

by trashinc



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post Season 3, Recreational Drug Use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vaguely Implied Step-Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashinc/pseuds/trashinc
Summary: Misery loves company, or something like that.
Relationships: Background Tommy H./Steve Harrington, Past Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington - Relationship, Steve Harrington/Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	no waves

**Author's Note:**

> For my beloved CFO of garbage. Happy thanksgivin :P

Steve’s got no business being at a high school party. It’s almost November. He’s been graduated for like half a year. But he works at the video store, which means he’s seen a lot of Tommy lately, which means they’ve kinda become friends again. Steve was lonely without Tommy, if he’s being honest with himself. He’s got Robin now. But that’s different. 

When they get high, Robin doesn’t wanna mess around. She’s fun to hang out with but she’s not _gross_ the way Tommy is. She’ll talk about girls but like. In a respectful way. Which is cool? But sometimes Steve wants to talk about titty fucking, and coming all over someone’s face, and beating up a tight pussy. Robin just wrinkles her nose at him and says _first of all, it’s a muscle. Tight versus loose isn’t a real concept. Second of all, this is why you’re single._

Tommy, on the other hand, doesn’t stop at just talking about horny shit. If Steve starts waxing poetic on Jenna Jordan’s ass, Tommy will say he wants her to sit on his face. He wants to lick her open before he fucks her raw. And then he’ll grab Steve’s ass. And then they’re making out. And it’s kind of a blur but usually Steve’s cock ends up in Tommy’s mouth, or Tommy fucks him in the ass, or usually both consecutively. Steve’s not the bitch, or anything. Tommy’s the bitch. Too much of a pussy to take Steve’s dick. Says it’s too big and wouldn’t fit. 

Billy made it fit, but that’s not the sort of thing you say. 

There’s still a lingering specter of betrayal between Steve and Tommy. Because Tommy’s an asshole and Steve’s more of one. Steve committed the original sin—ditching Tommy for a girl. Then. The whole Billy thing was complicated. Tommy and Billy were _friends_. Steve and Billy weren’t. But. Billy ended up spending way more time with Steve towards the end. Because. Y’know. There was just this angry, animalistic chemistry and once they popped neither of them could stop. There were a couple months they fucked every day. Like. Multiple times a day. Then. Billy just became abruptly avoidant. Didn’t take Steve’s calls and told him to fuck off when he tried to find Billy at the pool. Steve didn’t realize why until much too late. 

None of it really matters now. What matters is that the dynamic duo is back together, and Tommy’s still with Carol, who’s a senior this year, so Steve’s at a high school Halloween party. He’s holding a red plastic cup full of watery keg beer, standing on the porch, smoking a cigarette. His chest aches a little. Halloween is not his holiday. He didn’t dress up. 

He hasn’t seen Tommy in a little while. Tommy’s probably upstairs with Carol, or maybe some other girl. If it’s someone else, Carol’s probably blowing some dude in the hallway closet. That’s how the two of them work. They don’t get mad, they get even. 

It’s too loud inside. Steve couldn’t take it. Music thumping, shaking the china cabinets, people yelling to be heard. He doesn’t even know whose house this is. He’d guess it’s some freshman that didn't plan for this level of chaos. It’s the same scenery as so many other parties he’s been to. Drunk, messy people, sprawled over furniture, smoking weed in the yard, standing awkwardly in the kitchen, pouring drinks. Everybody insecure about their social standing. Posturing. Pretending to have a good time. 

Maybe Steve used to have a good time at these parties. He mostly remembers trying to get laid. Hitting on girls. Sweet talking. Getting his dick wet and hoping whoever he fucked wouldn’t read into it. 

Tonight he’s not really making an effort. He’s not the star of the basketball team anymore. He’s the guy who works at the video store and lives in a shitty apartment that he shares with Robin Buckley. He’s a loser. A nobody. Turns out, good hair doesn’t actually get you everything you want in life.

Steve drains the rest of his beer and sets the cup on the ground. He’s debating whether or not he should leave. He’s still sober enough to drive home. 

“Steve!”

The voice is familiar but it doesn’t slot into place until he sees the flash of red hair. Max is weaving towards him, obviously drunk off her ass. Wobbling on high heels, flushed, definitely not wearing enough clothes for how cold it is. She’s in a tight black dress that barely covers her tits and ass. It’s a tube top. Shiny vinyl. She’s got on red fishnets and a pair of devil horns. 

Steve hasn’t seen Max in a while. She and Lucas broke up for good before the start of the school year. So. She’s not around Dustin’s house anymore when Steve goes to visit. 

He doesn’t want to notice how her tits have gotten bigger. How the dress hugs the curves of her hips. Her thighs are thicker than they used to be. Creamy pale under the red diamond pattern of her tights. 

“Hey Max.” Steve smiles. Forcing himself to look at her face. 

She’s got on bright red lipstick that’s a little smeared. Heavy mascara. Her blue eyes are glassy. 

She throws herself at him and wraps him in a hug, giggling. Pressing her tits against his chest. He only hesitates for a moment before hugging her back. 

“How are you?” She smiles when she lets go. She doesn’t step back much. She’s still kinda up in Steve’s space. “I haven’t seen you in _forever.”_

“Uh. I’m good. Y’know. Same old, same old.”

“I’ve been trying to catch you at the video store but somehow it’s always Keith working when I go.” She wrinkles her nose. “He’s gross.”

“Yeah. Man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. I’m so glad you’re here! You have to give me your new phone number so we can hang out sometime.”

“Uh yeah. Sure.”

“Do you smoke?”

Steve just looks at the smoldering cigarette butt in his hand. 

“Not cigs.” Max rolls her eyes. 

Before Steve can respond, Max reaches into her dress, down between her tits. She pulls out a joint and a lighter. She flicks the flint wheel, holding the flame to the end of the rolling paper. She takes a long drag and exhales a smooth cloud before offering it to Steve. 

Steve drops just cig and grinds it out with the heel of his shoe. He takes the joint. Takes a few puffs. It’s not bad shit. Steve’s got a pretty high tolerance and he starts to feel it almost right away. 

Max chatters at him, asking about movies, and where he buys weed, and what he does when he’s not working. She still skates, but says she doesn’t really spend as much time at the arcade. It’s too nerdy. Her friends like to drive to the next town over and go to the mall. She also just parties a lot. Hangs out at peoples houses and gets fucked up. 

Steve has the strange urge to tell her she’s too young for that. Even though he knows he was doing it. Hell, he was doing that in middle school. 

Part of him still thinks it would have been better for her to keep hanging around Lucas, Mike and Dustin. They don’t get into that kind of trouble, as far as he knows. They’re not cool enough to know where to buy drugs or booze. Steve’s not gonna hook them up. Not that they’ve even asked, but he wouldn’t. 

They finish the joint and Max says she wants a drink. Steve figures that’s a goodbye. But she grabs his hand and pulls him along with her to the kitchen. She pours herself a vodka and sprite. She pours Steve a whiskey and coke without asking. Which—is what Steve probably would have had anyway? Tommy always makes fun of him for not liking to drink straight from the bottle. Must have been a lucky guess on her part. 

She then leads them to the living room. There’s not a lot of space on any of the furniture. She kind of just, pushes Steve down into the one free spot by the left arm of the leather couch and _plops into his lap._

Steve has no idea what to do with that. Max starts talking to the girl sitting next to them. Tanya, apparently. Max doesn’t weigh a ton. She’s short. Doesn’t even come up to Steve’s shoulders. Her ass and thighs are plush enough that it’s not at all uncomfortable to have her sitting on him. Except she keeps squirming. Moving even closer to him. She drapes an arm across the back of the couch, around his shoulders. She’s leaning against his chest. It’s. 

Probably the most direct come on he’s experienced? At least from a girl. Guys are more aggressive. But. Max can’t actually be hitting on him. She’s like. A kid. She’s Billy’s little sister. She’s just drunk. Apparently an affectionate drunk. This isn’t sexual. 

Steve’s trying so hard not to stare down her shirt but she tits are right there. She’s gonna catch him looking. And then what? 

It’s easier to not think too hard about it. Steve downs his drink too fast. Max is keeping pace with him. She sets her cup aside before too long. Says she wants another but doesn’t get up. 

Max has stopped talking to Tanya. Because Tanya’s making out with the guy sitting next to her. Max is staring at Steve’s mouth. He raises his eyebrows. 

“Uh…”

“Did you drive here?” She asks so honey smooth. Like there’s no implication behind it. Just an innocent question. 

“Yeah.”

“Did you bring any weed?”

“A little.”

“We should go smoke some more. Like. Out in your car. So we don’t have to share.”

It seems like a plausible statement. Nobody tried to mooch when they were standing outside. But Steve’s bowl is in his car anyway. They’ll just go smoke and come back. Right? It’s fine. Totally normal. 

“Sure, I guess.”

Max gets up. And Steve gets a flash of her ass before she pulls her dress down a little. She’s either in a thong or nothing at all. He’s gonna have a stroke. He’s helpless. She grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the door. 

She knows what his car looks like. Leads them right to it. She waits, staring expectant as he unlocks the door. 

“Turn on the heat.” She says as the climbs into the back seat. Steve turns the key in the ignition and the vents start blowing. He grabs his pipe and the little pill bottle full of weed. Then gets into the back seat next to her and shuts the door. 

Max doesn’t say anything as he loads the bowl. She’s sitting right next to him. Pressed up against him. It’s so quiet in the car. No music, or people chattering, or drunken singing. Just the two of them breathing, then the flick of the lighter and the crackle of burning weed. Steve takes a really big hit. Coughs a little as he passes it to Max. The bowl goes fast. The car is hazy with smoke. 

There’s a strange tension in Steve’s chest. His arm is tingling where Max is cuddled against him. She presses their thighs together. He turns his head enough to make eye contact. The moment drags out. Steve can feel his own heartbeat. He’s hyper aware of Max’s chest rising and falling. His ears are ringing. 

Then the inertia shatters. 

Max shifts so fast. She’s straddling his legs, thighs spread, pressed flush against him. She fists a hand in his hair and pulls him into a kiss. Steve’s head is spinning. 

His eyes are closed. And for a moment. He could swear he feels the drag of a moustache against his upper lip. Because the tongue flicking into his mouth is so familiar. The pattern of teasing, pressing too far and then pulling back, nipping at his lips, overwhelming him—it’s the exact way Billy kisses. 

It throws him off balance enough that he doesn’t protest. In fact, his hands are on Max’s ass. And he’s kissing her back. He’s hard like. Immediately. She must be able to feel it. She’s moaning into his mouth. Grinding on him.

She kisses messy. Aggressive. Her lipstick must be smeared all over both their faces at this point. 

Steve feels. Young. Like he hasn’t felt in years. Like he hasn’t felt since the people around him started dying left and right. All the monsters slipped out of the closet to terrorize his waking life. It’s hard to care about dumb things like who’s going to prom with who when you know what real evil looks like. Steve didn’t go to prom at all. He got drunk with Billy in a grocery store parking lot. They ended up in the Camaro. Parked some random place in the woods. Sucking each others dicks like it was going out of style.

Max is much smaller than Billy. She’s softer. All cushy curves instead of hard muscle. Her hands are tiny. That doesn’t stop her from yanking on his hair hard enough to make him groan. She pulls his head to the side to bite his neck, and uses way more teeth than he would have anticipated.

“I heard you have a big dick, Harrington. Let’s see it.” Her voice is higher pitched. Breathy. 

It’s horribly similar to what Billy said the first time. _You a grower and a shower, princess? Whip it out._

She doesn’t wait for him to take the initiative. She tugs on the button of his jeans. Pulls the zipper down. She reaches into his boxers with a practiced sort of confidence. Steve doesn’t really want to know how many guys she’s fucked before. She can’t be a virgin.

Max wraps her small palm around his cock and gives it a few firm strokes. She grins.

“Well, shit. This is a goddamn monster. Where am I even supposed to put it?”

“Uh… I mean. You don’t have to do anything…”

“I’m kidding.” She winks. “I’ve got plenty of ideas about what to do with you.”

She doesn’t really give him a chance to process that. She kicks off her heels and squirms out of her tights. Apparently, it was no underwear. Her dress is hiked up around her hips. She tugs the top of it down to expose her tits. She’s not wearing a bra either.

And Steve’s lost. Staring at her perky little nipples. At the wet folds of her perfect, pink pussy. She’s shaved except for a little triangle of red. God.

Max spreads her legs a little wider and raises her eyebrows. “You gonna even try to get me off?”

Steve’s not all that smart. He can be awkward. Seems to say the wrong thing more often than he doesn’t. He’s kind of a fuckup. But sex. Well. That’s one thing he’s pretty good at. He doesn’t hesitate. He dips his fingers down to where Max is hot and slick. He’s the one who leans in to brush their lips together this time. He teases her clit. So gentle at first. Barely touching her until she starts to grind against his hand. Until she’s whimpering into his mouth. 

He slips a finger inside her, rubbing her clit with his thumb. She’s so silky smooth on the inside. She clenches around him. She shudders. He feels her muscles flutter and she clutches at his shoulders, digging her nails in hard enough to hurt a little. 

_“Fuck,”_ she gasps. “More.”

Steve slips another finger in her. He tweaks one of her nipples with his free hand. She seems to like it. So he keeps at it. Lightly pinching. Rubbing. Squeezing until they’re a little swollen and puffy. Her hips jerk. She’s coming. Soaking wet. He doesn’t stop. 

He dips down to kiss her neck. Fucks her a little harder. She’s quick. Already coming again. Whole body rolling with it. She’s so responsive. It’s addicting. 

Steve’s high enough that he can mostly tune out that little voice in the back of his head that’s saying _you shouldn’t be doing this. She’s the same age as Dustin._ Steve could argue if he wanted to. She’s a freshman. Plenty of freshman date seniors. He’s not that far out of school. 

He still knows it’s not like. Great. He’s in too deep to stop now. She’s obviously into it. She started it. If it weren’t Steve it would be some other scumbag. He cares about her, as like, a person or whatever. Cares enough to at least feel guilty. If it were some random girl, he wouldn’t at all. 

Max gushes a little on the next orgasm. She groans. Throaty and hoarse. 

“God _damn_ , Harrington.” She nips at his lower lip. 

She pushes at his hand. He withdraws it. He’s not sure what happens next. If she’s gonna jerk him off. Or blow him. Or… 

Max grabs the base of his dick. She presses close against him. Lines it up, rubbing the head of it against her pussy. She sinks down, almost all the way. She’s so tight. Steve can’t breathe. He grabs her ass. If she doesn’t stay still for a second, he’s gonna lose it. 

Maybe he doesn’t need to worry. She’s panting. She shivers a little. “Well shit. Haven’t felt a stretch like that since I popped my cherry.”

It’s so crass. Incongruous, coming from the mouth of such a sweet looking girl. She lets herself slide down a little further. She’s settled on his lap. Resting on his thighs. 

“You like my pussy?” She rolls her hips, slow. Teasing him. “Bet it’s the best you’ve had in a while.”

_How’s my ass feel, Harrington? Looks like you’re about to nut_ _already._

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Fuck. It’s amazing.”

“Haven’t has any good dick in a while either. You’re not bad so far.” She picks up a little speed. Working herself on his cock like a freaking professional. 

Nancy never rode him like this. She was always kind of timid about it. Preferred him being on top. Carol was usually too drunk to have much coordination when he and Tommy tag teamed her. A lot of girls seem to just want to lie back and take it. Which is fine. It feels good. Steve’s used to leading once he’s got a girl naked. 

Billy was different. Billy would pin him down and fuck the hell out of him. Didn’t matter that Billy was the one with a dick in him. Steve always got _ruined._

Max is. Definitely the one in charge right now. She’s holding onto the back of the seat. Flexing her thighs. Taking his dick exactly the way she wants to. Which is harder and faster on an exponential ramp. 

She grabs one of his hands and puts it between her thighs. 

_You gonna leave a guy hanging? Don’t you have any manners?_

She doesn’t need to say it. Steve starts rubbing her clit. She moans. Then she’s fluttering around his cock. Squirting on him. Steve is going to _die._

The car’s filled with the sound of skin slapping. Max’s whimpering. She’s not quiet. Every time he fills her up she whimpers. _Yes. Yes. Fuck._ She’s shuddering again. She kisses him hungry. Almost violent. 

“I’m on the pill.” She’s bouncing on his cock fast and rough. “Want you to come in me.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Gimmie a cream pie, pretty boy. I’m gonna make you eat it afterwards.”

Pretty boy. 

Steve’s heart lurches into his throat. He almost wants to cry. He’s so hard he’s light headed. He’s got no chance. 

He holds onto Max tight and thrusts up into her. She’s murmuring encouragement. _Do it. Give it to me. Want it._ He hears a mixture of her voice and something much deeper and more desperate. The growl of someone that’s been putting away too many cigarettes and swigs of whiskey for far too long. He’s torn between the reality of the moment and the sense memory of something he’ll never feel again. 

Steve comes hard. He buries himself as deep in Max as he can and hugs her tight against his chest. It’s probably too intimate for what just happened. But he can’t help himself. He wants to hold her. She doesn’t try to squirm away. She holds onto him too. She tangles her hand in his hair. Doesn’t pull this time. She rests her cheek against his shoulder and sighs. Content.

“That was nice. We should do it again.” 

“Yeah. Totally.” Steve’s voice is a bit unsteady. He feels weirdly untethered. Unsure of when or where he is. 

It’s quiet for a couple minutes. Maybe longer. Steve gets soft and slips out of Max. She doesn’t move off of him or demand he eat her out—like she said she would. They just keep holding onto each other. 

“I miss Billy.” It’s so soft. None of the bravado she seemed to have before. It’s small, and sad, and utterly helpless.

“Yeah. Me too.” Steve responds without thinking. Which is probably weird to say. It’s not like many people knew about them. The last time Max saw Steve and Billy in the same room, they were beating each other bloody.

She doesn’t question it, though. Instead she holds him a little tighter. “He liked you a lot.”

“What?”

“He talked about you when he got real drunk, sometimes. Got all mushy and shit. It was gross.” Max sniffles a little.

Is she. Is she crying?

Steve doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been very good at comforting people. He’s not good with feelings in general. So he just rubs her back softly. He kisses her on the top of the head. After a couple minutes, she sits back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her mascara has run, giving her raccoon eyes.

“You good to drive?”

“Probably.” Steve’s still pretty high. But he didn’t drink that much. He’ll just drive slow.

“Take me back to your place.”

It’s a bad idea. The apartment is small and has thin walls. If Robin hears Steve fucking someone and then sees Max in the morning, she’ll flip out. Maybe he shouldn’t assume that they’ll fuck again. But. He tends to wake up horny. And like. 

Max tugs up her dress. She doesn’t bother with the tights. She climbs across the armrest into the front seat. Steve didn’t give an answer. Didn’t say yes or no. He’s at least got a queen-sized bed. It takes up most of the space in his room. The least he can do is cuddle Max to sleep.

So, he gets in the driver’s seat. He starts the engine and pulls out of the cul de sac. They both look straight ahead as he drives. The car smells like sex and weed. Steve’s a little sweaty under his long-sleeved shirt and cardigan. Max is still practically naked. 

At a stop sign, he puts a hand on her thigh. She rests her palm over his. They lace their fingers together. His chest aches and fills with butterflies all at once. Life in Hawkins is fucked up. Max gets it. 

Misery loves company, or something like that.

**Author's Note:**

> \- VP of Trash


End file.
